I Probably Should Be Doing a Hundred Other Things But...

I feel I have neglected the blogging world for long enough, well I wouldn't exactly call it neglecting because I have been rather busy. I've been back at College since the 18th both for my campus job and my House Advisor orientation. A House Advisor performs the same duties as the Resident Assistant in other schools, but since our conversion to the House system a few years back the position went through a transformation itself. Myself and my partner Kelsey are responsible for the well being of 16 first years and 3 sophomores, so 19 total...21 if you count the fact that we probably should take care of ourselves while we're at this. 

In all honesty I'm really not worried about my sophomores, I know them and they are the least likely to be in or cause any sort of problems worth drawing attention to. My first years though, well I feel like they are my kids...in fact I keep referring to them as "my kids". A friend asked me why I feel so attached to them, and I couldn't give a good answer besides the fact that it was my job, and to be honest that is the best answer that I can come up with. If you know me you know I like to help people, and I want to see people succeed. Up until this point I tried to do that on an equal footing with those I cared about, but now I have been placed in a position of authority and its given my sense of charity a Jose Canseco dose of steroids...and I'm totally ok with that.

Now I write this post, which I think will end shortly, amidst the emptiness that is my room for this year. A privilege of my position is the chance to have a double room to myself as a single and after a year of living with my old roommate Brian in "The Place" I find myself both not knowing what to do with my newfound space and not having the energy to actually try and figure out what to do with it. My flag from New Orleans is crumpled on the second desk behind me, my tv sits in front of my extra mirror plugged into the outlet but sans a cable coaxial since the one I bought broke because it was too short and I have a suitcase of winter gear (I think) that just sits next to my fridge that really only has chip and dip in it currently. I look around and I "see" what I can do with the space but I just can't make myself get up and do it. I'm not especially worried though, passion seems to find me when I need it most.

I finish this post from my aforementioned empty room for the year as "Gold Digger" plays over the sounds of my first years bonding.

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Going Postal...Well Trying Not To (3 Days, and counting, of Package Retrieval Nonsense)

These past three days have helped me to understand the phrase going postal, perhaps in a different sense than intended but the English language has a long history of breaking the mold of old dogs learning new tricks. In any case my string of bad luck came to a head today and got the better of me for a couple hours. I know when I need to step back and take stock of things, and this evening was one of those times. Luckily knowing me my whole life, Mom understood that and did what she could to keep me from actually going postal, and thankfully she did a good job. With a clearer head now, at 3:01 in the morning, the past couple days seem a bit comical actually, but things usually look better in hindsight.

Day 1 of the ordeal was Tuesday. Mom ordered a new tv to replace our broken Sony. Mom ordered it either Sunday night or Monday morning and suffice it to say, we weren't expecting it for a couple days. Of course one hopes that a package will be early so I was listening out for UPS come Tuesday. So imagine my surprise when I step out the door at 3:20pm and see a UPS missed delivery notice on the floor in front of the door. Why was I so surprised? Only because I had been sitting by the door since 12:30 and the slip said they came at 1pm. So I was very confused as to why I hadn't heard it. I had a theory though, I figured the man had only rung the bell, which is broken, and hadn't bothered to knock to double check. Wouldn't it make sense to knock to make sure?

Day 2 of the ordeal would naturally be Wednesday. Expecting the package to come around 1ish judging by the day before I was hoping that I would be able to get out of the house after it came to meet a few inquisitive Prep 9 kids who were interested in finding out about going to school at Lawrenceville for high school. It does make sense to judge a shipping company based on previous performance right? Wouldn't you assume that they have some system that meant that they would reach my building sometime around 1 everyday, give or take an hour? Well of course it turns out that that makes no sense at all because the tv didn't show up until around 6. Having the foresight to ask security to have UPS physically knock on the door did pay off but my whole day was shot, I could have gone out and met those Prep kids, luckily that plan had called for two people to go and the second person was able to make it. Adding insult to injury, the UPS guy delivered the package in such a way that I didn't realize the entire tape job was busted. The tape is clearly labeled with a warning reading something to the effect "of the tape is damaged upon delivery, please review all items with the delivery agent." As I had let the "agent" go because I couldn't see the busted tape upon delivery, Mom and myself had to go into lock down the building mode because we weren't about to be saddled with any potential loss of money over this. So I rang up security to have them stop the UPS man and send him right back upstairs, and Mom not leaving things to chance grabbed her book and set up camp in the lobby to act as look out lest UPS man try and make a mistake. Luckily he was an honorable guy and came back up rather apologetically and looked the contents over with me. Happy ending to the UPS debacle, but I still have a package coming through the Post Office itself.

Day 3 of the ordeal is Thursday. I ordered a new phone last Friday and admittedly wasn't expecting it until this Friday but be the overzealous shipment tracker that I am I saw that it was processed through my branch post office early this morning and was, and I quote, "Out for Delivery or Available at PO Box, August 12, 2010, 9:42am, BROOKLYN, NY 11205". Well we don't have a PO Box so I was right to assume that I would be getting my new phone that afternoon when the postman came to fill all the mailboxes in my 23 story building...right? Well you'd be wrong again. I went downstairs to "get" my package to be told by the postman that packages come on a truck and that the normal truck driver was out today and would make his runs tomorrow. Well in the hope that I could pick up my package myself I rang up the branch office and this woman informed me that a sub had come in and taken out the truck and that he would be swinging by later. In the hopes of catching this sub I went downstairs about every half hour just to check. If the Post Office tries to deliver a package they leave a slip in the box saying that the package is in the mailroom, and every time I checked no such slip was present. Well it was going on 5:30pm and I was starting to get antsy. At that time my sister's father had come to pick her up so I took her downstairs to hand her over and stayed downstairs with them about 15 minutes which means I came upstairs around 5:45. Ten minutes later I get an email, yes I signed up for email alerts, saying, and I quote, "Notice Left, August 12, 2010, 5:42pm, BROOKLYN, NY 11205". In plain english that means that some invisible postman came and "tried" to deliver my package and being unable to do so left an imaginary slip in the box stating that fact, ALL while I was downstairs in the lobby "watching" this happen. In laymen terms, THE UNITED STATES POSTAL SERVICE LIED!!! I was livid! I tore downstairs and inquired with security if they had seen the delivery truck come through today, of course they said no. My anger had to be evident on my face because everyone I passed on my way back upstairs kept asking me "what's wrong Robbie" or some facsimile therein...and I was unable to put my anger to words.

As 'Waiting on the World to Change" plays through my headphones, I think it sums up how I feel at this moment. The world needs snail mail and there is really nothing I can do about its deficiencies except wait for it to change itself. As it stands now I'll just keep on waiting (chorus: waiting) for my phone to show up...I might just try and retrieve it myself tomorrow morning. We'll see how that goes.

I write this as the world famous voice of John Mayer soothes my anger away (well the likes of Raul Midon, Beirut, Keane and others have been helping) as I sit on my familiar futon perch about to head to bed. 

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Notes From Underground...Literally (Partly Inspired by the Life Photo Essay on Tourists in NYC)

Before I launch into my stories from the underground we call the subway, I invite you to look through this hilarious guide on tourists in NYC. Believe you me tourists, we New Yorkers can spot y'all from miles away...and that's not a bad thing, we love to help. In any case, the gallery from Time: 

Slide 7 is a point of particular contention for New Yorkers. We have way too many subway lines to refer to them solely by color. I am sympathetic to the tourist who is overwhelmed by the vast numbers and letters and needs to something with which to sort them out...but please realize that at the end of the day you have to use either a letter or a number to get to your destination. And while travelling to your destination, it is important to be alert...but paranoia won't help. Its slightly amusing to observe the shifty eyed tourists who are constantly pretending to read signs or averting their gaze between stops, and then leap into panic mode every time we get to one, fearful that they'll miss there designated departure point. Riding the subway needn't be an exercise in Defcon 1 Red Alert type readiness, relax and soak up the atmosphere around you instead...its some of the richer that you'll experience anywhere.

Which brings me to my stories. I've told the one about my friend Davide before but its worth telling again. Last summer I was going who knows where and this Italian comes to the door of the train asking "uptown?" I said yes and he jumped on. He knows english but isn't fluent so it took a little hand gesturing and pointing to get our points across to each other and I assume he made it to his destination. The funny part is I began my tenure as a student at F&M a couple days later and my family thought it would be good to spend the night prior to move-in in Lancaster so we stayed at the Lancaster Arts Hotel. Breakfast on the morning of move-in and as I move about to grab my toast before it burns the same Italian tourist who I had helped a few days before walked in. How is it possible for two strangers to meet twice in places 160 miles apart. I found out he works for Pfizzer and that his name is Davide and we are now facebook friends and say hello from time to time. I have a standing offer to visit Italy...but money is forever funny :)

Another story involves a newly moved couple from Seattle who had settled on Central Park West sometime last year. I was with my mom heading into the city to catch the Staten Island Ferry and go exploring when I overheard the unmistakable sounds of confusion from the couple. Its hard to explain but its that halting speech pattern usually sprinkled with a few "this is it" or "this has to be it" and I knew they needed a little guidance. After squaring away their subway question the conversation turned to their idea to move from the city into Brooklyn. They had been looking at places in Brooklyn Heights and had eaten at the semi-eponymous Heights Cafe to sample the local fare. Of course Mom and I launched into ambassadorial mode (we should really be paid) and espoused on the other eateries in the neighborhood, in our neighborhood, the greenery in Prospect Park, etc. But since they were focused on Brooklyn Heights I mentioned the Brooklyn Promenade and was horrified to discover that they didn't know about it. So as we exited at Chambers St to transfer to the 1 to South Ferry, we encouraged them to take a stroll down there, especially at or near sunset.

The funniest story of recent memory involved a group of young male acrobats on an A train I was on last week. They got on at Port Authority (Times Square for most people) with me and instantly started bickering. The guy with the stereo begged his friend to pick the track, that friend refused. In the meantime we had arrived at Penn Station (34th St/Madison Square Garden) and the dude with the stereo turned his attention to asking the boarding passengers to leave the middle of the train clear. Surprisingly everyone complied. Feeling accomplished stereo kid turned his attention back to asking his colleagues to pick the track for them to do their tricks to. If you have ridden the A train downtown out of Penn Station you know there is that slight hitch to the left just before the train gets into 23rd Street, well stereo kid apparently forgot because the jolt made him drop the cds. By the time all of them had been recovered we had gotten to 14th Street where the boarding passengers did not heed stereo kid's pleas to leave the middle clear with one disgruntled white gentleman snapping "I'm getting off next stop!" Turns out the group of acrobats were departing at West 4th as well. The show the group put on may not have been much in the way of acrobatic prowess...but they certainly have a future in comedy.

I wrote this from my customary futon perch at home, chuckling at the memory of the not so acrobatic comics.

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The Little Mosque That Could and The Mayor Who Said It Should

So the mosque near Ground Zero is set to be built, and I couldn't be happier to hear that. I normally don't like wading into political battles but this is more than about politics, this is about healing and understanding. I lost someone I knew quite well on 9/11...in fact I saw her the night before and was too consumed with the headache I had at the time to say good night to her, and that makes me pause when 9/11 rolls around every year. Those extremists took 3000 lives because of a misconstrued and perverted notion of the religion they practiced. So when those who practice the mainstream and true version of that same religion are willing to open up share it with others, let's not shut them out because other practitioners wronged us, let's do our best to embrace their efforts and take a little time to learn something in the process.

And that is why I applaud Mayor Bloomberg. "Hizzoner" stood up and proclaimed that now is the time for moving forward, for building towards peace together. Here's an excerpt of his words I gleaned from this article http://gawker.com/5603633/lets-give-michael-bloomberg-a-hand?skyline=true&s=i : 

"The attack was an act of war, and our first responders defended not only our city, but our country and our constitution. We do not honor their lives by denying the very constitutional rights they died protecting. We honor their lives by defending those rights and the freedoms that the terrorists attacked...it is my hope that the mosque will help to bring our city even closer together, and help repudiate the false and repugnant idea that the attacks of 9/11 were in any ways consistent with Islam...Political controversies come and go, but our values and our traditions endure, and there is no neighborhood in this city that is off-limits to God's love and mercy..."

I invite you to read the article, in it you'll find the entire excerpt that they pulled from his speech and a link to where you can find the speech in its entirety. 

I write this post from the futon in my apartment as the sun sets lower in the sky and my Beirut (the artist) playlist plays from my pc.

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